Belay That...

belay |biˈlā|verb [ trans. ]1 fix (a running rope) around a cleat, pin, rock, or other object, to secure it.• secure (a mountaineer) in this way : he belayed his partner across the ice| [ intrans. ] it is possible to belay here.2 [usu. in imperative ] Nautical slang stop; enough! : “Belay that, mister. Man your post.”

I've had experience with addictions, and one feature of the addict's landscape is that after a length of time in recovery, the horror of addiction and toxic living doesn't seem so bad after all. For the unsuspecting, the unexperienced or the uneducated it leads back to another round of temporary joy, then indulgence, misery, wreckage, loss and finally if one is lucky, recovery. If unlucky, death, imprisonment, permanent disability, and/or complete poverty.

Nothing to mess with.


"My name is Jim. I'm a boataholic...."
Is my relationship with boats the same thing as an addiction to say, drugs or alcohol? I don't know. Though I find that after several months ashore, living in relative comfort, with an abundance of all the things not provided while aboard (unlimited food and fresh water, electric power, space, security, stability, companionship, communication, tools and equipment, easy and fast transportation, replacement parts, professional assistance, entertainment, medical help and supplies, etc), I want to go sailing.


Boating is expensive, and I attenuate the costs by doing most of my own work. It enables me to understand the systems that I might have to repair while underway. And repairing those things without anything on that long list in the preceding paragraph.

It has made me competent in a number of things, and has illuminated my shortcomings. (The repair of electronics and things that require welding and/or machining go to the shop.) I also do my own installations and I have completely rewired BLISS and will rewire her again now that I know a few more things... It's more work than I want to do though. It seems that the ratio between enjoyment of the vessel and the work to keep her fully functional has shifted out of balance. Way out of balance.

It's my fault. Rather than accept the limitations imposed by the nature of sailing a small yacht, I have added a lot things that I thought would make life aboard more pleasurable. I've increased the load on the electrical system with all my gadgets that I now need to have 500 pounds of batteries, a backup generator, fancy regulators and meters, inverters (convert battery voltage to household current), solar panels and wind generators (and their structures) and miles of additional wiring throughout the boat. All this stuff wears out or breaks down and costs money to fix or replace, and all of it requires my time and labor to install and uninstall, to run it out to a repair shop or sit down with my tools and soldering gun and an internet connection to find the repair info if I can't figure it out myself.

Gone is the serenity and happy-go-lucky joy of my first boat.


I'm reminded of a time I spent with my brother back in Pennsylvania in the early 70s. He was buying high quality surplus electrical cords with a good standard grounded plug on one end and some obsolete, funny connection on the other. He would take a hatchet and chop off the obsolete connector and then sell the perfectly functional cord to a company that needed them for a 300% markup. He called it de-manufacturing.


I need to apply that same logic here.


There may still be joy left in the old girl yet, after I wipe off all the make-up and lipstick, and remove the implants and tummy-tucks.

boats for sale by owner

I've been back in San Carlos almost a month now. Mostly doing Honey-Dew lists and recovering from the battering I got from the sea and self-important Port Captains. Later this month, when all the parts have come in to make SV Bliss seaworthy again and the winds are into their southerly weather pattern. the 1st Mate and I and our two dogonauts will drive back to Mazatlan.

The plan: Sail across the sea to LaPaz and spend some quality time in the 1st Mate's favorite city, then some time kayaking around Isla Partida and the turquoise water there. Make our way up along the Baja coast doing a string of day sails and then cross at Sta Rosalia to San Carlos. I'll take the bus back to get the car.

We'll haul the boat, paint it, fix what needs to be fixed, finish what needs to be finished and put the boat on the market. We bought BLISS on St. Pat's Day in 1994, and we've had a pretty good run. So this will be our last cruise on BLISS. The work/fun, money/adventure equation is no longer working, so it's time to let go.

Me? I'm tired of being bounced around in a seaway, losing sleep and spending money. If I want to go on a cruise, I'll call Royal Caribbean or Princess (but not Disney... I'm not good with other people's kids) and join the thousands of non-captains on the sea.

What does this mean for the Green Flash?
It means I'm looking for someone to take the baton.

Landed!!

After what seems like forever, I'm parked in an outdoor cafe (Calypso Coffee) overlooking Marina Mazatlan, listening to piped in reggae and sipping a limonada (made without a single, solitary limon) and watching Sergio wash down my boat.

This is the moment I've dreamed of for weeks (except for the limonada and reggae, that is) while I lurched and pounded my way upwind through some pretty disgusting seas, and some really rolly windy anchorages. My cruising days are almost over. I really should have waited until later in the season to bring it north, it would have been faster and easier.

A surprise at the anchorage at Jaltemba Bay
... free auto accessories.

It's even uglier from this side of the boat.

I was able to shake it loose in a few minutes, though.

On Sunday, the 1st Mate is driving the Nissan Quest down from San Carlos with Sophie and Chica. We'll spend four days or so having some fun in Mazatlan. If we're lucky, we'll take care of some car issues with the Nissan (install new front struts, check on the engine light, steering and alignment) at either the Ford or Nissan dealership. (The Nissan Quest is simultaneously known as the Mercury Villager, both having been built in a US Ford factory).

I was able to get a great wifi signal 3 miles

out from this little beach house along the coast.

Then we'll leave the boat in Mazatlan (I've purchased a new bilge switch here for a good price) and probably sail up to San Carlos in June, haul it out, paint it, correct a few minor problems and put it on the market with 10 gazillion other boats. Maybe we could just make the boat and the business a package deal... sell a lifestyle, not just a business. A fantastic deal for a forty-something with a house payment, a boring job, and some people and computer skills. Sell the house and do this. Work part-time for 5 months of the year from Mexico, spend the rest cruising the coast and Sea of Cortez. (End of commercial message....)

Imagine the life... (please direct your friends with

disposable income to this blog. Thank you.)

Full Gale!

This morning the wind started up early, about 10:30 am local time... 3 hours too soon. And it didn't really die until around 4 am, 7 hours too long.

At 10 am I took the dinghy into Barra and got my paperwork done with the Port Captain (5 minutes, no hassles), walked to Beer Bob's Book Exchange and dropped off my novels and picked up some new ones, said goodbye to the folks I know in Cabo Blanco (it's near the PC and BBs) and headed back to the boat. The wind in the lagoon was blowing about 30 knots when I hauled up anchor and made my way down the channel. I was looking forward to a nice calm night in the peaceful waters of Tenecatita Bay, one of my favorite places in all of Mexico.

When I got to the mouth of the estuary (the "Bar" in Barra) the sea was churning with whitecaps, foam blowing around the place and a washing machine for Bahia de Barra. A 65 foot ketch was barreling into the narrow channel. He took the left marker, I took the right. Suddenly my forward motion dropped to about 2 knots and all the power in BLISS' diesel was being used to mount the waves that hit us. I cranked up the rpms for more power and noticed the temperature gauge was on its red-line. I slowed the motor down, turned 180 degrees and back into the lagoon.

I dropped the anchor near the fuel dock and shut the diesel down after checking for water leaks in the cooling system. The fan belt that drives the alternator and heat exchange pump was stretched out and not doing its job. I let the motor cool down, retightened the belt and got the diesel functioning properly again, but I knew I was spending another night in the lagoon. The sea was too dangerous for me and a boat this size, (and for  65 foot ketches, too).

I found a space in about 8 feet of water behind Dog Island and ran out 100 feet of chain. The wind is still strong enough to shake the cockpit awning to pieces, so I took it down and have the dinghy in the wind shadow behind BLISS.

There's a small ketch near me whose owners have left her parked there and the roller furling jib is starting to get pulled out by the wind. It sounds like a motorboat as it pops and collapses. The wind is easily gusting up past 50 knots and I don't know if I would be able to do anything about their sail. The loose end is now 20 feet off the deck and I can't reach that far. If the whole thing comes out it will either destroy the mast or pull the boat off its anchor and send it crashing downwind... or it may do both.

Anyway, being stuck here in this blow for an indefinite period of time encouraged me to sign up for the local internet service. I get 24 hours of service for $7.00 but I can sign off and on to stretch the total period out over a couple of days if that's what it takes to get out of here. I'll be using it mostly to search the weather sites for some information.

Back in the Lagoon and a Good Sign

The Barra de Navidad (est 1644)  lagoon is really quite big. It's almost bigger than the town/city it occupies, if that's possible. My little boat is right about where the map pin is.

For those of you who don't know about this lagoon, it's a wind magnet. Every day around 1 pm until after dark, the sea breeze comes in from the west at around 25 to 40 mph. The 1st Mate and I and our dogs were here when it was clocked at 68 mph. Speeding, indeed. It sets up a nice breeze through the boat but keeps us below to write, play music and read, cook and eat cookies (which is what I'm doing today). Thoughts of going to town in this weather are suspect, but the water taxis handle it just fine. Try this in a dinghy and you'll be soaked to the bone in minutes.

I spotted this sign outside a hotel lobby in Barra today, and had to post it. It's uniquely honest in an industry that is anything butt.

This is my favorite sign in all of Mexico so far

And if the Surgeon General REALLY wanted people to quit smoking, he'd put THIS on all the tobacco products sold in the US. Maybe with a Healthcare Plan for Americans in the works, he will.

The Song Blog

Right now, I'm about 5 miles off the coast of Barra de Navidad, (on the state line of Jalisco and Colima) on my way home to San Carlos, Sonora hundreds of sea miles away. I'm trying to steal a little wifi from out here with my dish setup. Looks like I did.

I've always wanted to write music, and although I'm a pretty accomplished guitarist, and I can play just about every piano chord ever built, I don't have any original material.

It's not laziness. It's just lack of inspiration, and maybe, somebody needs to just show me how it's done. And maybe I lack confidence too.

But I don't want to write the same old love-addiction songs that sell trillions of records. I want to do something a little more original and just sell a million records... that would be fine.

So here's some song ideas that I have that are maybe a little more timely to the 21st century:

Your Cheatin' Avatar

If you stay in one place too long,

someone will kill you by accident.

One webcam too many.

Goin' Native, and can't afford it.

They can't make anything right

(pay me once, pay me twice)

I ain't God, but that's not my fault

WiFi ain't workin' Blues

If you're gonna' do drugs,

did you bring enough for everyone?

I know where you are (the GPS song)

So, I'll let you all know when the CD is ready and on my new website, mxsailor.com, which isn't built yet… but neither are the songs

Return of, escape from civilization

Last night I met Scottie at the Flophouse, where we picked up an amp and the Capt and off we went to Troncones Beach.

There's only one road into and out of Zihautanejo, and it runs along the coast. It's two lanes and sometimes has a shoulder, but more often not. This is the road I took on the "Express" to Barra de Navidad.

The main road in Troncones is not paved (unless the pavement was buried under the ever-present sand) except for large concrete topes. A lot of them, strung along this road.

Our destination was the Inn at Manzanillo Bay, a palm covered resort of 6 bungalows situated around a glistening pool. The restaurant was 1st class.

After we set up our gear, Scottie suggested we eat. His meal (shrimp) was free and my excellent hamburger and fries with limonada ran 120 pesos.

It was my hope that we could do a few numbers together to get a sense of things before too many people showed up, but Scottie launched into his gig without a warm up. I played the bass (through my guitar synthesizer) behind his guitar work and singing, and he turned to me and "take off" which meant, I thought, that I should jump in and solo. I hit a switch on the guitar and I go from bass to jazz guitar and "take off." 

He had brought some sheet music with him; I was able to reprise "Scotch and Soda," a 1st Mate favorite, and play rhythm for his occasional solos. "St. James Infirmary" and some slow blues allowed me to switch to muted trumpet solos for a nice, smoky feel. It was Scottie's show all the way though, and I was just the side-man. I stumbled once in while over an unexpected chord change and had trouble with some of Scot's fast-moving, fast-changing R&B tunes… trying to keep an unfamiliar tempo going while Scottie soloed. A humbling experience at times.

Moments of brilliance, moments of shame. Just like life.

On the return trip, we both agreed to forgo the Wednesday night joint performance at the Flophouse. Too much work needed to be done and there was no time to do it. I'm getting ready to sail north and a trip of a thousand miles in a sailboat requires a lot of preparation.

I woke up Wednesday morning with a wrenched back, from carrying the amps and other gear, I think. I planned to take it easy. Then the local provisioner, Ishmael, sent out his panga with my fuel and water purchase. 35 gallons of diesel in 5 gallon jugs, and one 5 gallon jug of gasoline and 5 gallons of drinking water. So despite the pain, I'm storing away this stuff.

Yesterday Ishmael delivered my refilled propane tank, I was able to buy some block ice from a restaurant, and I scored big at the ISSST market, finding Ades soy milk on sale. So now, I can make espressos on the boat, have hot water for washing and showers, run the generator for lots of lights and entertainment gizmos, eat some fresh food (I'm so tired of restaurant food), and nurse my aches and pains.

Today I'll go in and bid adieu to the irascible Port Captain of Zihuatanejo, and start working my way up the coast tomorrow. It will be good to get the sails up again and get away from the noise and chaos of populated cities. Back to the sea.